


The rules of making it in fashion

by auworksforme



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auworksforme/pseuds/auworksforme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles has the role of Andy, while Erik Lensherr is the fearsome editor in chief of Belle. Surely friendship or more isn't on the cards ..<br/>(with several scenes shamelessly ripped from the film)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Panting, Charles launched himself into the office of the Editor-in-chief of _Belle_ and his direct boss, Erik Lensherr. Of _course_ he didn't wanted to be late on his first day, but reception hadn't allowed him in until he had threatened to cry (and showed them his contract), and the building was so bloody huge that he was sure some people could just disappear into it and never return again.  
  
He righted himself when he saw _him_. Erik Lensherr, enigma in the fashion world. Not only because he was the only male editor in chief from a big, very very big and successful magazine, but also because there were rumours that he was straight. In this business. Charles expected to see unicorns prance around.   
  
"What?" Erik Lensherr, impeccably dressed (even with his beginner's eye, Charles could notice that), didn't look up from the large book on his desk.   
  
Charles breathed in and took a step towards the desk. Alex had huffed when Charles had told him about the job, but had also said that he would support him along the way. They had even picked out his outfit together.  
"Good morning mister Lensherr. I'm your new assistant. Charles Xavier. I'm sorry I'm l-"  
  
"What?" His boss looked up. "Who are you?"  
  
 _Oh shit._ Those eyes were as impressive as in pictures. Charles gulped. "Charles Xavier, your ne-"  
  
"I heard you the first time. And _what_ are you wearing?"  
  
 _It was a new sweater!_ He smiled. "Sweater. I asked for a dress code, but .. and I like blue."  
  
"That's not blue." The eyes left him, returned to the book. "Two seasons ago Diane and Tom Ford premièred a new colour in their collections. It was a striking mix between aqua marine and turquoise. It was a great success. Sadly the 'designer' of your sweater didn't go through the trouble of mixing, therefore creating a lacklustre aqua without a hint of the freshness of turquoise."  
  
"Oh." Charles could name all the vice-presidents of America in less than five minutes, but he felt dumb all the same right now. "I bought it because it er .. brings my eyes out."  
  
The editor-in-chief looked up again. "So it does."   
  
"O My God!" Angel, completely decked out in black leather expect for the bright purple ribbon in her hair, launched herself into the office. "I am So Sorry, mister Lensherr." She grabbed Charles' arm and gave it a tug. "What the fuck are you doing here?", she whispered. "I've been looking for you every where."  
  
"Angel." Lensherr knitted his hands together. "What's this?"  
  
"I don't know how this could have happened." She paled visibly. "He must have thought he was your assistant." Another tug. "You're his _second_ assistant."   
  
"There was a small reason for giving you this chance, Angel. It would devastate me to lose that and you in the progress."   
  
Charles couldn't believe his ears. _Two assistants? Getting fired over him walking into the wrong office?_   
  
"I will only give you more reasons." The woman nodded like a bobble-head. "Thank you so much, mister Lensherr."  
  
"That would be all."  
  
"Nice to m-"  
  
"Shut up!" Angel pulled him out of the office. "Don't _ever_ talk to Erik again. Don't even dream about him but when you do, call him mister Lensherr. Understood?"  
  
"Yes." Charles looked back through the glass walls of mister Lensherr's office. He really was gorgeous.   
  
She pushed him into a cubicle. "And don't ever look him into the eye. Now go get me a soy sugar free latte and we can _finally_ get to work."   
  
"Okay." He sat down. "Where should I go for a-"  
  
"Just go!"

   
\--

".. and when you share an elevator with him .. leave. I mean it." Angel sighed. "And try to dress yourself tomorrow, please?"  
  
It had been a very long day. Charles still didn't know what was wrong with his clothes, although he had an inkling in which way he had to look. Hopefully Raven was still around, maybe she could help.   
  
"Charles!" His colleague snapped with her fingers. "Focus! Normally I'm bringing the Book to mister Lensherr's home, but I can't. My boyfriend finally got us a spot at Boudoir and I will need to pick my dress up first." She rolled with her eyes. "Normally you would do stuff like that, but I don't know if I can trust you with clothes yet."  
  
"I think clothes are quite s-"  
  
"This is his address." Angel handed him a small note. "These are his keys. You walk into the hall, take the first left and put the Book on the small table with the large vase. Got it? Don't touch anything, don't talk to anyone."  
  
It didn't sound all that hard. Charles took the note and the keys.   
  
She turned away from him, bending over her desk to grab something. "The Book." She handed it to him like it was a relic. "Don't dirty it, don't look into it."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Another sigh. "Just get out of my sight. And no detours!"  
  
He guessed visiting Raven would have to wait for tomorrow. "Okay. Goodbye."  
  
She had already left for the elevators, her killer heels clicking through the silence.   
  
It was half past nine. Charles prayed that his room mate would still have any dinner left. But the Book -whatever it was- was first on his list.   
  
  
~~  
  
How could someone like Erik Lensherr give his keys to strangers? Charles was his assistant, but .. he certainly felt strange enough, walking around in the huge penthouse.   
  
"Who's there?"   
  
Charles tensed. It had been a child's voice. _What did that mean? Wrong penthouse?_   
  
"Hello?" A boy's voice added to it. "Who's there?"  
  
"I asked it first, Pietro."  
  
"Doesn't mean I can't ask it as well, Wanda."  
  
Charles bit his lip and slipped into the first room on his left. There were three small tables with large vases. "Bugger."   
  
"What does bugger mean?"  
  
He jumped a mile when he heard the girl's voice behind him. "Nothing. Hi. I shouldn't talk to you. Do you know on which table ..?"  
  
"Where's Angel?" The boy -Pietro?- added.   
  
"Sure." The girl nodded. "The one in the middle."  
  
"The one on the right."  
  
Charles started to sweat. What if mister Lensherr would come home? What if these children would tell on him?  
  
"The one in the middle, Pietro always lies."  
  
"All right. Thank you. I'll put it down there and leave."   
  
The boy tilted his head. "Could you read us a story?"   
  
_Oh God._ "I don't think so." _Who left their children at home alone at night? They couldn't be older than eight or something?_ "I'm going now." He put the book on the table. "Thanks. Bye."   
  
"Bye sir!", both of them chorused.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sweater. Office. Now."  
  
Angel made a gesture like she was ready to throttle him. "What did you do?"  
  
Erik Lensherr had been inside for less than three minutes, sweeping through the office with a cashmere coat over a flawless suit.  
  
"I don't know", Charles squeaked. "What should I- I'm going in."  
  
"Of course!" Still the grabbing hands. He fled.  
  
"Mister Lensherr?" Charles avoided his eyes. "Is there anything I can do for you?"  
  
"My ch- twins were very excited when I came home last night. There seemed to have been some excitement when a floppy haired boy bundled into their house, waking them up."  
  
"Your twins?" He clasped a hand in front of his mouth.  
  
"I made a few mistakes in my life, but Wanda and Pietro are the only ones I don't regret." His voice was made out of ice shards. "If you will tell anyone of their existence, I'll gut you. Why were you in my home?"  
  
"I had to bring the Book." _Which I still don't know the importance of._  
  
"And why couldn't you do that without talking to the twins?" Erik tapped on his desk. "Do you feel depraved without human contact every moment of your day?"  
  
"No, sir. They talked to me, I thought it rude not to repl-"  
  
"That's all. You can go."  
  
"Okay."

Charles knew better than to ask for a proper explanation. He went.

  
\--

Angel looked like she had fainted over his desk. "This is your second day, what's your name. You will have to step up your game if you want to keep your job."  
  
"Charles." Their boss left his office, coat in his hand. "Coat."  
  
"Coat?" To hang somewhere? Bring it to the dryer's?  
  
"Get it!", Angel hissed.  
  
 _What was even going on._ Charles walked over to him and took the coat. It was heavy, terribly soft and it smelt .. extraordinary.  
  
Mister Lensherr turned on his heel and walked back into his office.  
  
"What should I do with it?"  
  
"Just stand there. I'm sure there is a reason." Angel tutted and got behind her desk. "I'll have to find someone else to get my latte."  
  
"I'm a journalist! I thought I was going to-"  
  
"Shut up. I need to work."  
  
After twenty minutes, mister Lensherr left his office and took his coat from Charles' sore arm.  
  
It took him three weeks before he found free time to visit Raven. In those three weeks his boss has used him twice as a cloth hanger, told him that his twins had given him several nick names and told him off about his wardrobe decisions.


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh Charles, what are you wearing?" Raven put her glasses up in her hair. "I thought you had shopped for this job."  
  
"I did!" He looked at his green shirt and matching vest. "I look nice in green."  
  
"That's not green, it's mud." Raven sighed. "I love you, but you have to make an effort."  
  
"Pay overpriced stuff so the world can see that I support capitalism?"  
  
She made a cut throat move. "Stop right there. I'm willing to help you, maybe I can find some male model stuff, but change your way of thinking right now or I'm making you leave with chaps."  
  
"Chaps?" Charles' face stayed blank. "What are those?"  
  
"Never mind. Follow me."   
  
After three hours of jeans, suits, tuxedos, skirts ("No. No way."), overalls and long knitted sweaters, Charles had seven brand new outfits.   
  
"I will come by to see if we can combine it with some of your own stuff. Although I don't expect much .."  
  
"Thank you, Raven. For the snide remarks and the clothes."  
  
"Be careful, people might want to eat you alive if you turn up like this."  
  
Charles blushed. "Of course they won't."   
  
"But with some luck Erik will completely claim you and you're safe."  
  
"I thought .." He looked at his new clothes. "He was .. eh?"  
  
"Not every gay man dances on a canal boat, Charles. You of all badly dressed, sport uninterested gay men should know that."  
  
"Thanks again, Raven." _Well darn. Being interested in a straight man was much easier for keeping your head on. Now there was a poss- not, of course. He was his assistent._ "I'm going to go now. Home."  
  
"No questions about the twins? I heard you made friends with them."  
  
Charles looked at his oldest friend. How close was she with Erik, exactly? Had he underestimated her?  
  
Raven smiled. "You're gaping. That I work on the third floor instead of the top floor doesn't mean I'm not in touch with everything that happens around here. I'm not telling you to pop the question to your boss, but don't be afraid of him, okay? A friend would be nice."  
  
"But I'm his assistant. His _second_ assistant." Erik Lensherr needed a friend?  
  
"All right I give up. Shoo, get out of here."   
  
"And what if he fires me? I need this job!"  
  
"Go!"

\--

The next day Charles showed up in a BOSS suit. He was terrified that someone would recognize it or ridicule it.   
  
His boss asked him into his office. "I don't pay you enough to be dressed like that."   
  
Charles told himself not to fidget. "I decided to invest more in this job." He dared a glance at the man.   
  
The editor nodded. "Nice to know. 2008?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
He smiled. Erik Lensherr genuinely _smiled_. "Who helped you with it?"  
  
"An old friend."   
  
"You know you have giving me already three reasons in the past five minutes for which I could fire you?"  
  
Charles paled and looked at the floor again. "I am very sorry for that. I'm still learning." He had no clue what he had done wrong.   
  
"Clearly." His boss coughed. "Do you prefer the carpet over my face or has anyone told you that you will turn into stone when my gaze meets yours?"  
  
He snapped his head up. "No, sir." He bit his lip, tried to push his hands into his pockets before he realized this suit didn't had any.   
  
"So look at me when I'm talking to you. Get Angel in, we need to talk about Paris."  
  
"Paris, France?" Charles had always wanted to go there. "That is-"  
  
"Angel. Inside. You, outside."  
  
 _I guess it's baby steps from here._  
  
"And Charles?"  
  
 _At least he knew his name by now._ "Yes, sir?"  
  
"Last night Wanda came up with 'Miffy' for you. You're an ongoing inspiration."  
  
 _Who the fuck was Miffy?_ Charles nodded. "Thank you, sir."   
  
"That's all."  
  
Had that tension in the office always been there? He left the office backwards, his bosses' eyes not leaving his.


	4. Chapter 4

"I don't think you should lace them up." Alex and Hank (who had stayed over, after years still pining for Alex' interest, although Charles was quite sure Alex had cemented him in the friends zone) looked at Charles. Who was dressed in almost uncomfortable tight black jeans, a huge knitted anthracite grey jumper and black boots.   
  
"I will trip if I don't lace them up." And the shoes were heavy. "And that stupid jumper, it's almost a dress. It will look insane underneath my jacket."  
  
"Wait." Hank's face brightened. "I have the perfect thing. I'm sure those fashion guys would love it."  
  
"You have something fashion guys would love?" Alex laughed. "Ha. Lab coats don't c-"  
  
"lex .." Charles wanted to apologise for him, but Hank had already left to his apartment on the next floor.  
  
"He doesn't mind!" The blonde blushed. "You're not my mum, by the way."  
  
"Got it!" Hank must have ran up and down the stairs, his face red, his hands full of something blue. No, dark marine. With gold detail .. what did Hank get?  
  
"It's a military coat. Marine's corporal or something, look at the epaulettes. I bought it years ago but .. you need guts to wear it."  
  
"It's gorgeous." It was. Now Hank held it out in front of him, Charles could appreciate the heavy fabric and shining buttons.  
  
"You'll look like a tramp", Alex remarked and Hank's face fell.  
  
"If I can borrow it .." Charles thought the same, but 'tramp' was an everlasting success in fashion.  
  
"Of course! Keep it!"   
  
"Okay, don't listen to me." Alex walked into his kitchen. "But don't come crying either."  
  
"I won't." Without the jumper the coat would have been to big, but now it was perfect. "Wow. Thanks."  
  
"No problem." Hank shrugged. "Like I said .. you need guts."  
  
~~~  
  
"What are you weeearing?" A red haired man, seemingly younger than Charles, turned around him as soon as he entered the elevator. His curls bounced when he clapped his hands to his mouth. "O my God! European? Your coat? Can I touch?"  
  
This was a whole new experience of 'what ARE you wearing?'. Charles smiled. "Original, I think."  
  
"Vintage?" A gasp. "Gods, lucky bastard. Some people get the looks and the clothes." He extended a hand. "Sean. I work in the dungeon."  
  
"Charles. Dungeon?" Were there even worse places to work than sandwiched between Erik and Angel?  
  
"I'm Darkholme's slave. I knit and sew so that every bloated celebrity is able to be photographed in a size zero."  
  
"You're the Photoshop of _Belle_?" Charles took an immediate liking to the man. Although it was hard to believe that Raven was a slave master.   
  
"I'm cheaper", Sean winked. "And I passed my floor. Woops."  
  
"Well, this is m-" The elevator doors opened. "Raven."  
  
"Oh shit."  
  
"Sean. Charles. Sean, why are you up here? And why are you talking to Erik's assistant? Great coat, Charles."  
  
Okay so maybe he could imagine it a bit. "Hi Raven."  
  
"He's Erik's? O fuck me, I'm sorry I talked to you. Hierarchy and stuff."  
  
"Don't be sorry!" Charles turned to him.  
  
"I'm not", Sean whispered. "But it looks better on my death certificate."  
  
Raven joined them in the elevator. "Aren't you getting off?"  
  
"Oh. Oh yes. Of course. Nice talking to you, Sean."   
  
She just shook her head. "Be careful."  
  
"Of what?"  
  
But the elevator doors were already closing.

\--

"At least two people liked it alrea-"  
  
"You!" Angel -today in all white with a big moss green bow around her shoulders - stomped over to him. "Late!"  
  
"Five m-"  
  
"Don't care!" She pointed to a tray full with cocktails. "They're almost finished. Get in there."  
  
Before Charles could ask where exactly, he saw that Erik's office was full of clothing racks and several people in distress. Seems like he was killing of another collection.   
  
"Drinks", a little blonde squeaked as soon as she spotted Charles. "There is a God after all."  
  
"It's powder pink! For men? Do you even know in whose building you are?" Erik completely ignored him. Which was probably for the best.  
  
Charles slipped through the group, offering drinks until his tray was empty. Could he leave now?  
  
" _This_ ", suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and when he looked up, he saw it was Erik's. _What did I do?_ "This is everything a man needs. We're in winter now so the colours are a bit darker than I like, but everything's here."  
  
Oh dear Lord.   
  
"Lovely coat", an older man remarked. "Very risqué, marine with anthracite, but the gold keeps it all together."  
  
"Exactly."   
  
His shoulder started to hurt a bit, but he forget about that when Erik _put his hand inside his coat_ and pulled it further open. "Tight knitted, which is a bit 2005, but can you see where I'm going?"  
  
Everyone except Charles nodded. He tried very hard not to break into a sweat, not to breath too loud and definitely not think about those hands on his body. It was his boss, after all.  
  
A women with purple hair ( _purple? Why_ ) smiled at Charles. "Is he from Europe, Erik? Never saw him on a catwalk here before. Only Europe would go for the tiny ones, don't you think?"  
  
The grip on his shoulder got stronger and Charles swallowed a yelp. "I can't reveal my sources, Andrea. Anyway, let's go through the final again. Missy?"  
  
It was the blonde. "Yes?"  
  
"Please tell me your thoughts behind it." His hand released Charles. "That would be all", he added sotto voice.   
  
He fled the office.   
  
"Nice coat", Angel admitted. "Go get me a wild sugar frappé mucchachino without milk. Get something yourself as well."  
  
Charles was never going to take that coat of again.   
  
~~~  
  
"Erik wants you to pick up some outfits for W&P. This is the address, if they aren't made by Sebastian you should leave them there and be back in ten."  
  
Charles looked at the address. "That's the other side of town."  
  
"Get a cab?" Angel rolled with her eyes and left him for a no doubt professional talk to her boyfriend on the phone.   
  
  
It took him thirty minutes to get there. A complete grump at reception acted like he didn't understand English and if it had been for anything else but his job, Charles would have left the place.   
  
"Ah, you must be belle." An older man, looking very sophisticated and 'old money' approached them just in time to prevent Charles from cursing in Spanish. It was the only foreign language he knew.  
  
"I'm from _Belle_ , yes. I'm here to pick up two costumes, designed and made by Sebastian?"  
  
"That's me." Sebastian smiled like a cat. "Mister Lensherr must be very sure of himself to let something like you walk unleashed."  
  
"What?" _Why weren't there any normal people in this business?_ "The costumes? Are they finished? Please? I'm already late so I really can-"   
  
The man took his hand and lead him further into the building, walking with such a pace that Charles had to fight to stay up right.   
  
Sebastian halted before to child-size mannequins, decked out in clothes that would look 'try hard' on a princess. "Do you like it?"   
  
Charles pulled his hand free. "Lovely. Can you maybe .. put them in a bag?"  
  
"Put them in a bag?!"  
  
"For transport?"  
  
"Put them in a bag?" Sebastian's face turned red. "Are you insa-"  
  
"Can I take the dolls?" He hoped they would fit into a cab. He pinched his nose. "Please, Sebastian?"  
  
"Of course, that's what they're for." The man blew him a kiss. "I have to go. Come back soon. Ta ta."   
  
_Crazy people._ Charles' BlackBerry went off. Probably Angel. Hopefully the coat would work its magic again.

\--

"These are monstrous." Erik waved the dolls away. "What were you _thinking_? Toys R Us serves better quality!"  
  
"I know." Charles bit his lip. "But Angel said that it was okay if Sebastian made them ..?" _Shit, bugger, shit. Had he endured that just to disappoint Erik?_ He was trying to get just a tiny tiny bit closer to the man, not show him he was a complete tasteless wimp.   
  
"Just get them out of here, please. Burn them, whatever. I'll call Heidi and ask what she's doing with the children. Fuck." His boss let his head drop into his hands.   
  
"I'm sorry." Heidi? _Heidi Klum?_ Charles loved her. He dragged the dolls out of Erik's office. "Can I do anything to help?"  
  
"Excuse me?" His head left his hands. "What?"  
  
Charles walked back into the office again. "Anything to help? Because I let my good taste get in the way of my .." _shameful eagerness to please._  
  
"Help me?"   
  
_Was it that hard to understand?_ He looked at the rapidly emptying floor, people getting ready to leave. "Help you. I'm sure we have loads of people here or in the address book that wouldn't say no to designing something last minute for mister Lensherr. How last minute is it?"  
  
"The twins need it tomorrow morning. Stupid school, adding a royal theme to make History more exciting. I thought teachers were supposed to do that."  
  
"Wow." Getting designer dresses for your kids because the school had a theme class.   
  
Erik was judging him, that much was clear. "Times have changed. I will call Heidi and some other people. But your idea was nice as well."  
  
"A pat on the h-" Charles bit on his tongue to make himself shut up. "Anything else, mister Lensherr?"  
  
His editor-in-chief smiled in a scary way. "Tell Angel again that I will be late tomorrow. Your coat is out of this world and makes me only more curious about who your benefactor is, my assistants call me by my first name and please delete Sebastian Shaw from our Look Out For list. That's all."  
  
 _But Angel called him mister Lensherr. Was he singled out?_ Charles fought down a squeak. "I will do that, enjoy your night and I'll see you tomorrow." He left the office backwards.  
  
He just had a conversation with his boss. Erik. Who had asked him to call him Erik, had complimented his coat, hadn't blamed him for the clothes nor him pushing Angel under the bus (if she would just be a fraction nicer, Charles would feel bad about that) and let's not forgot the fondling earlier today.  
  
He really shouldn't have a crush on his boss. After Tony's fear of commitment and Logan's way of using sex as a reward or punishment, Charles needed a nice guy. Not a dictator with soft edges. He pushed the dolls under his desks and decided he would destroy them tomorrow. Maybe Sean would like to join in.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning was like nothing happened. Charles hadn't expected eternal thankfulness and Erik on his knees but .. _to have Erik on his knees though.._   
  
Charles started his computer. Who was he kidding? Even if Erik would be on his knees in front of him, Charles might not know what to do with it. The last time he had sex was in the previous century and he should really stop thinking about sex even though his boss just passed in a gorgeous pinstriped suit with a matching hat. A _hat_.  
  
"Xavier!" Angel dangled herself in front of his screen. He could say a lot about her, but she was lean and flexible. "I think I'm going to call you Xavier from now on. Much less of an embarrassment to introduce than Charles."  
  
Until now -close to two months in- she had only called him 'Hey you' or 'Second', so this was progress. "Yes, Angel?"  
  
"Please go over mister Lensherr's wardrobe for Paris and check for hotel reservations. There should be four. And don't forget to rent a limo."  
  
"For in Paris?" Charles wanted to go to Paris. Really bad.   
  
"Duh." Angel flicked back her hair, righted herself and walked away.   
  
~~   
  
The rest of the day was uneventful, giving Charles finally the possibility to clean out his inbox.   
  
He only realized something different when at eight at night he was one of the last to leave the building. Usually Erik was still there, but today he had missed him.   
  
"Where's Erik?"  
  
Angel paled. "Mister Lensherr! He had to leave for an emergency."  
  
"Emergency?" Charles' mind immediately brought up the worst options. The twins in an accident? Penthouse on fire?  
  
She slammed the Book on his desk. "None of your business. I have to meet my boyfriend. You do the Book. And don't talk to anyone this time."  
  
 _The worst that could happen were more nicknames._ Charles shrugged. "See you Monday, Angel."  
  
"I won't be in on Monday." She looked triumphant. "Boyfriend is taking me to Aspen for the weekend."  
  
"Okay." _Was that even worth the travel?_ "I'll lock down." Angel always had an excuse not to share an elevator with him, so today he would just let her off easy.

\--

_To live in a two-floor penthouse in the centre of New York. To never use the subway again. To wake up with that sky line .._ Charles paged through the Book and couldn't help but smile when he saw a military coat very similar to Hank's. Had Erik done that?  
  
Absent-mindedly he opened the front door, put the keys on the small table and walked into the living room.   
  
In which sat Erik with Pietro on his lap. The boy in pyjamas full with cartoon fishes, his father still in the pinstripe, but without a tie and jacket. _Oh sh-_ "You're home."  
  
"Yes, indeed." His boss didn't take his eyes from his son, hugging him against him. "Pi had a nightmare, didn't you?"  
  
 _His son had a nightmare? That had been the emergency?_ Charles felt faint. He had heard of the attraction men with children had on women, but right now he was questioning his sex. Erik looked so relaxed and nurturing and the boy in pyjamas completely trusting his dad and God he might feel not existing ovaries tingle.   
  
Pietro, eyes sleepy, turned to look at Charles. "Blue. Is that Blue, daddy?"  
  
 _Blue?_   
  
"That's Blue." Erik kissed the top of his head.   
  
"I had a nightmare. Dragons ate New York." He sounded a tad proud. "And I couldn't find daddy so that wasn't .. fun."  
  
He should leave. Fast, before he might beg on his knees to be a part of this.  
  
"Why doesn't Blue say anything, daddy?"  
  
"I don't know." Erik's eyes met Charles'. "Usually he talks too much instead of too little."  
  
"I- I should go." He made to put the book on the middle table, but Erik freed a hand and waved at him.  
  
"Give me that. We can look at the pictures."  
  
Pietro nodded. "Pretty pictures. Are you shy, Blue?"  
  
Erik kissed the top of his head. "Maybe he's a bit jealous of your yammies and doesn't want to say so."  
  
"I love whales."   
  
Something inside Charles _ping_ ed.  
  
When he offered the Book to Erik, their hands touching sending an electric bolt through his body. _Get a freaking grip._   
  
"Thank you." One corner of his mouth turned up.   
  
Charles pulled. "Have a good weekend. Sleep tight, Pietro. I'll see you on Monday." He was already backing out of the room. "Bye."  
  
"Bye, Blue!"  
  
 _Okay, so maybe the dictator has a soft spot._ In the elevator down, Charles tried to sober himself up. _They were his children, of course he wouldn't snap or curse in front of them. He only asked Charles to give him the Book because he couldn't rise from his chair because Pietro was in his lap. And thinking that it was cute how Erik shortened that to Pi was idiot as well._   
  
~  
  
"Dinner's in the microwave." Alex waved at him from the couch. "Why do you look so flustered?"  
  
"Cold outside." Charles fled into the kitchen. "Thank you." _Would Erik cook? Would he secretly be Super Daddy?_  
  
"All because I love you, bastard."  
  
Wrong person to hear those words from. "You don't have to keep cooking for me, lex. I mean .. I'm always so late, I can get something myself."  
  
"You won't fit into your new nice outfits if you do that." Alex looked up from the screen. "Are you really all right?"  
  
 _I might be rapidly falling in love with my boss and his children and on my entire trip back home not only mourned the fact that I would never live in such a place but couldn't have his babies either. That would be a no._   
"It's the weekend", Charles smiled and peeked into the microwave. "What could be wrong?"  
  
"Okay. There's some salad in the fridge as well." He looked at the television again.   
  
"Thank you." Maybe Raven had been right and Erik could use a friend. Charles could be that friend. He could read to the twins and rub Erik's feet after a long day and oh who was he kidding. He should grow a pair, start looking for new jobs in case asking his boss for a date would get him fired and just do it.   
But probably after the stress of Paris.


	6. Chapter 6

Charles looked at himself in the mirror. Raven had called the thing a _gilet_ but in his opinion it was a bottle green vest with buttons and a plunging neck line. His friend had also told him that on the catwalk it was worn without anything underneath.  
"Not going to happen", he muttered to himself. He dug into his closet and found a black long sleeved shirt. Almost as black as the jeans he was wearing, so maybe it would do?   
  
    ~~~  
  
"Charles, office."   
  
He hadn't even taken his jacket off. Was Erik going to reprimand him for Friday night?  
  
"Good morning, E-"  
  
"Reservations?"  
  
So it was going to be like that. "Done."  
  
"I don't want a limousine, I want a proper car." His boss sat down behind his desk. "I _hate_ the gift packages, so get on that. We have three weeks before the start of PFW, so get an eau d'toilette made or something. I'm _not_ going to wear a skirt this year and I want at least three outfits from Siriano's last."   
  
Charles found a small piece of paper and a pen in his jacket pocket and scribbled along. "Yes?"  
  
Erik looked up at him. "God, I had too little sleep for this."  
  
"Too l-" He closed his mouth again. "Coffee?"  
  
"I can never sleep when I share my bed with a noisy sleeper."  
  
 _What? Was he really .. was his boss telling him about his lover? Why? Did Charles mean noth-_ Charles swallowed. He wasn't going to rise to the bait.   
  
"And when Pi is in my bed, of course Wanda wants to join as well." Erik looked incredibly smug. "Coffee would be excellent. What are you wearing?"  
  
His children. Of course. He smiled and took his jacket off.  
  
"The model on the catwalk didn't wear a black long sleeved shirt."  
  
"Well .. it's winter. And I don't think that walking half naked around here would be appre-"  
  
"I have girls walking around here barelegged because they can't find anything that will show their tattooed stocking lines off right. I'm so used to nipple slips that I wouldn't even call them slips but nipple peek-a-boo. I'm sure you'd fit right in half naked.'  
  
 _Was it really so bad that he had walked in on his boss on a Friday night?_ "I will get you your coffee."  
  
"Lovely." Erik looked at the files on his desk again. "And Charles?"  
  
"Yes, Erik?"  
  
"White would have been better with bottle green. That would be all."  
  
Charles was less than fifteen minutes in the office and already had a desperate case of the Mondays.

\--

"Oh God I hate you all!" Angel stormed past Charles when he walked in.   
  
"Not a nice holiday?"   
  
On his desk was a note from Monsieur Dura, the perfumer. Charles could come visit him at 15.43. Not random at all.   
  
Before he could sit down, Erik stepped outside his office and waved him in.   
  
"Good morning, Erik." Charles took his coat off and draped it over his arm. "How can I help you?"  
  
"Angel's boyfriend dumped her and left her in the mountains. She starts crying as soon as she sees men, the colour purple or daffodils. As there is a big chance two out of three will be around during PFW, you have to go." His boss sat down behind his desk and looked at his notebook.   
  
"Oh." _PFW? As in Paris Fashion Week? As in flying to France to share his first Paris experience with Erik?_ Charles felt something bubble inside of him. "Go to Paris? As y-your assistant? That's really sad for An-"  
  
"When are you meeting Dura?"  
  
"15.43 this afternoon." It was hard not to jump around cheering.   
  
"Other ideas for the packages?"   
  
Charles pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket. "I only need to t-"  
  
"Give me that." Erik looked at him. "Last night, Wanda came up with Petit-four."  
  
"New nickname?"  
  
That seemed to satisfy his boss. "Exactly. Call Raven and tell her to get you a complete PFW wardrobe, same as mine except for Siriano." He looked back at his screen.   
  
Charles put the frumpy note on the man's desk. "Anything else?"  
  
"These brogues are really nice."  
  
"They're mine."  
  
"Pity you combined them with proletarian jeans. And don't forget to call Finances to put the second ticket in your name. That would be all."   
  
Of course. Anna Wintour would admit a love for Primark before Erik Lensherr could give a compliment without a critique. Charles nodded and left the office.   
  
Paris. He was going to Paris. Holy Moses on a bike, Paris.   
  
"Why are you wearing purple!?" Angel doubled back to the ladies'. Charles looked at his purple sweater. He liked purple .. With a shrug he sat down behind his computer. So if he wouldn't screw up Paris .. he could ask Erik for a small lunch in a cosy bistro in Montmartre?   
  
   ~~~  
  
"What iz mister Lensherr to you?" Monsieur Duma turned out be an obese red faced Frenchman with an intense dislike of cheese (first thing he had said after introductions).  
  
"My boss", Charles couldn't help but blush with that reply.   
  
"No no no no." Duma put a thick wrist in front of Charles' face. "Breathe and sniff. Is that him?"  
  
 _Smell. Of course._ "Cashmere. At least. He loves his cashmere coat." _I think. Not because I counted all the times he walked in with it because it makes him look like a creature made from molten gold._  
  
"Caz'mere." The man nodded. "And else?"  
  
"I'm just his assistant. But I liked that one on your wrist ..?"  
  
"That won't do with caz'mere." Duma shook his head. "What is he for you?"  
  
Charles leaned back in the comfortable chair. "A complete dictator. Strong, fierce, handsome, in control of everything, knows about everything and everyone, never wrong about something, smiles like the sun coming through clouds, so incredibly cute with his children and there's a softness no-one would exp-", he blabbed. _Oh fuck._ "Please don't repeat that to anyone."  
  
The perfumer winked. "That will do. Yes yes yes that will do. Come back on Friday, 9.21 in the morning."   
  
"Okay?" He rose. "And a .. the bottle and stuff?"  
  
Monsieur Duma waved him away. "All taken care off."  
  
~~~   
  
"Paris." Alex almost dropped the casserole. "You're kidding me."  
  
"Maybe it's just a very eleborate scheme to seduce you", Hank nodded. "Erik Lensherr is a millionaire, I'm sure he does things like this all the time."  
  
"He's not going to seduce Charles!" Alex put the casserole down.   
  
"It's just work. Only in Europe. Paris." Charles let the comment about seducing slide. "It's looks great, Alex."  
  
"Thanks. Don't feel like you need to put out because he's your boss."   
  
_There have been several moments that I would have gone on all fours if he would have asked me._ He nodded. "I will find my own way. You two keep the seducing."  
  
Hank blushed and Alex immediately returned to the kitchen.


	7. Chapter 7

The entire week had been the most exciting hell Charles had experienced since .. ever. Being the first assistant for PFW meant being in control of everything that was a part of it, from outfits to venues to guest lists.   
  
So when it was finally the weekend and _Belle_ could do for a few hours without Charles, he went to one of his favorite places of NY: the zoo.   
Sadly he hadn’t been the only one with that idea. In the ‘Ocean’ part, Charles spotted a very familiar face. Erik returned his stare with a look like he was just presented with a powder pink man skirt.   
He looked at his clothes: hiking shoes (warm, comfy), jeans he had previously used to paint in, alumni black hoodie, kaki jacket, rust colored shawl and his old backpack. Of course Erik looked nauseated, but not everyone could look like they just stepped out of a Ralph Lauren ad.   
  
Charles turned away to give Erik a reason not to come over and talk to him, but he hadn’t calculated on the twins.   
  
“Bambi!”  
  
“Blue!”  
  
 _Bambi?_ His right hand was grabbed by Wanda while Pietro darted around him. “Didn’t you see us, didn’t you see us?”  
  
“Hi Bambi”, Wanda piped up.  
  
“Shush”, her brother told her. “He’s shy.”  
  
“Well hi, Bambi.” Erik didn’t sound so amused. “I thought you were acquiring a grown up taste.”  
  
“I thought you were here to look for whales, not for me.” Charles turned to notice that Erik was _much_ too close to him.   
  
“Whales!” Pietro screeched. “Did you see them?”  
  
His boss smiled in a predator like way. “Yes, did you?”  
  
So he set his own trap. Why would he bother?  
  
Two pairs of big brown eyes already told him the answer. “Well .. have you checked the otters yet? Whales love to play with otters, but because they’re so big they only stick their heads into the otter pool.”  
  
Both shook their heads.  
  
“That must mean they’re playing in the ocean.” Charles nodded. “Underneath the subway there are loads of huge big pipes so the whales can come say hi to us, because we like animals and they like us, but also swim back to the big ocean.”  
  
“Can we go to the ocean?”  
  
“You should ask your father that.”   
  
“So you’re an environmentalist now as well?” Erik squatted down before his children. “Shall we go find the tigers?”  
  
Pietro looked doubting for a moment, but Wanda was already running off.  
  
“Careful!”  
  
Charles half turned when Pietro had followed his sister. “I’ll see you on Monday.”  
  
His boss shook his head. “What if there are no tigers? I’ll buy you an ice cream.”  
  
“It’s winter.”  
  
“It’s ice cream.” Erik followed his children and Charles –silently cursing himself- followed him.   
  
“You live nearby?”  
  
They walked into the ‘jungle’. “Yes.”  
  
“By yourself?”  
  
“No. I share with Alex.”  
  
“Hm.” Erik waved a warning finger at Wanda who tried to step into a pool. “Is he your dresser?”  
  
“He’s a cook.” _You could just ask me if I fuck him. I’ll ask I you have some take-away-ass and we both know where we stand._  
  
“Fat one? Only those are good, if you should believe my mother.”  
  
“Built like a Grecian god.”   
  
Erik flinched. “Ah. How long have you been together?”  
  
“Why is my boss asking me such things?” Charles stopped in front of the tiger habitat.  
  
“You know that not even seniors wear khaki anymore?”  
  
“Daddy, where’s the tiger?” Pietro grabbed his hand. “Is it over there?”  
  
“I think so ..” Erik’s eyes were on Charles’.   
  
“Maybe I’m a senior at heart.”  
  
“No, you aren’t.”   
  
Wanda had more interest for their interaction. ‘What’s a senior?”  
  
“All right.” Charles zipped his jacket open and took it off. “Here. Find me something better.”  
  
Erik smiled like the Cheshire cat and stuffed the coat in the nearest bin.   
  
“You two stay with Bambi Blue, all right? I’ll be right back.”  
  
“But what if Bambi gets cold?”  
  
“He could hug a boy”, Pietro piped up. “Daddy likes to hug b-”  
  
“Pietro!”   
  
“Let’s find that tiger”, Charles intervened.  _Daddy likes to hug boys?_  
  
Erik returned in five minutes with a light grey double breasted trench coat. “I think it’s about your size.”  
  
“Where did you-”  
  
“I offered the man double of the original price. Try it.”  
  
“What?” _Why was this guy so horrible and genius and adorable and rude at the same time?_ Charles took the coat and tried it on.  
  
“A sight for sore eyes.”  
  
“Pretty”, Wanda added. “Can we have ice cream now?”


	8. Chapter 8

In two days they would fly to Paris.  
  
"Charles!" Raven waited for him down at reception. "Come with me."  
  
"Good morning."  
  
"Sean's already waiting for you." She took his arm and steered him into the elevator. "Final fit through. Erik made some last minute changes. What are you going to wear in the plane?"  
  
On the third floor, Sean was already waiting for them.  
  
"Slacks?", he offered. "Track suit? It's a ten hour flight, so-"  
  
Sean giggled.  
  
"Shut it, Sean." Raven grabbed Charles' chin. "You're kidding."  
  
"I hate it when you do that."  
  
"Charles! You're going to be in the seat next to Erik Lensherr. You'll be his shadow and his business card and you will have to look like it every frickin' minute along the road!" She squeezed. "I've been working twenty-six hour days, don't joke!"  
  
 _Woah._ He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry. I'll be a good clothing doll and if you can think of something comfortable on the plane .."  
  
Raven relaxed against him. "Every year he's cussing about ignoring PFW but this year .. I think you bring the worst out in him." She righted herself again. "Sean, why the hell haven't you looked for any plane-worthy clothes for Charles yet?"  
  
"I bring the worst out in him?"  
  
"Just be nice to him for once." She pointed him to the closets. "Go, get clothed. Erik knows you're here."  
  
"Nice?" Charles had been trying to do that for the last months!

\--

Charles tried hard not to be incredibly nervous while waiting for Erik. He only had hands on luggage because everything else (loads and loads of stuff) had already been sent ahead. He had a ticket for first class and no clue how he could spent ten hours next to Erik without hurting him or humping his leg.   
  
"Charles."  
  
"Erik." _Breathe in, breathe out. Forget about Raven's comments_  
  
"Ready for Paris?" The man looked stunning, as always. And relaxed, which was almost a first.  
  
"Sure." Charles nodded. "I'm ready." _If he repeated it often enough, it might come true._  
  
    ~~~  
  
Charles couldn't sleep. The seats were comfortable, the entertainment amazing but he just couldn't-  
  
"Stop fidgeting." Erik turned to face him. "Afraid of flying?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Home sick?"  
  
"No." Charles pinched his nose. "I'll stay still so you can sleep."  
  
"I already did, the last six hours."  
  
 _So that's why he had been so silent. Now he had missed an opportunity to watch Erik sleeping. And that didn't sound creepy at all._ "Oh."  
  
"With children you learn to sleep whenever possible. It takes you two years and trust in some deeper instinct, but it works."  
  
Charles sat up. "I'll remember." He bit his tongue to not ask for more information about the twins.  
  
Erik followed his example. "You should try to get some sleep. Should I tell you a story?"  
  
He had to tread carefully here. "Are you sure that isn't a bit we-"  
  
"Shut up." Erik lay back again. "Your withheld curiosity is leaking out of your ears."  
  
"Nothing's leaking out of my ears." Charles turned on his side, so he had a better view. _Oh, you're hopeless._ "I don't even know why you're looking at my ears."  
  
"Detail is important." Erik sighed. "You understand that you shouldn't tell this to anyone else?"  
  
"Erik, you really don't have to .." He blushed. "I don't even know why you would to share _anything_ with m-"  
  
"Shut up, Charles. Maybe I just want to show you that I'm not one-dimensional."  
  
 _Oh shit._ Who would have thought that an international flight would make Erik open up about himself? "I don't think you're .. I'll shut up."  
  
"I got sole custody of the twins because their mother died while giving birth. Magda was a good friend of mine and even if we did things together that just helped me to hide from who I was .. she gave me Pi and Wanda." Erik's eyes went distant. "I could never feel bad about that. After the birth things went fast. I threw all my money against bureaucracy to keep the twins here, not let them go to their grandparents in the Ukraine, because .. I fell in love with them. My children. And suddenly I was working ten hour days and sleeping two hour nights because there were babies."  
  
 _Holy shit._ Charles looked at his shoes.  
  
"After three months I collapsed and told my parents everything. That it was easier to have a girl friend than come out. That she was pregnant and keeping it and Magda dying and that no matter what; the twins would stay with me." Erik's voice grew thick. "Weirdly enough that was what brought us together again. They moved in and my mother started teaching me everything necessary. Which she does, 'till this day. My father .. died three years ago, sadly enough. My mother left after that, but is always around for Pi and Wanda." Erik sighed and coughed. "I thought telling would be easier."  
  
"I don't know what to say."  
  
"Maybe you're feeling sleepy?" Erik met Charles' eyes.  
  
"Thank you." Charles felt like whenever flabbergasted would be flabbergasted and shocked at the same time. _How could he ever look at Erik again?_ He tucked his hands in his arm pits. _And why did he want to hug him so badly?_  
  
"Sleep well."  
  
Charles turned away from those eyes and tried to think around what he had just heard.

\--

Of course the story didn't come up any more. They didn't even have time for it. As soon as the plane landed and Erik left it (without waiting for Charles), they were full on for making the best of this week.  
  
"If I even have to tell you my name, I won't bother with your little collection and you can start applying to jobs that don't need the skill of recognizing important people."  
  
It was the third day and the ninth fashion show. Erik had put it on the list as 'Highly Potential', but was clearly changing his mind fast.  
  
"For two", Charles added to the dumbstruck girl. "First row, end of the line. Now or never."  
  
"Of course." Tears trailed down her cheeks while she stepped aside and opened the door for them.  
  
"I don't know if I even want to any more, Charles." Erik combed his hair back, eyes absent.  
  
"It's not about what you want, it's what _Belle_ needs." It has been the mantra for the last couple of days, adjustable for everything. An impromptu invite from Viktor &Rolf? Done. A anxiety attack from one of the duckling designers Erik was here to support? Discover what she needed and travel through the entire city to get it. Charles knew Paris wouldn't be a holiday, but he had high hopes for a better first impression.  
  
"Yes." His boss took the lead again as they searched for the runway.  
  
Charles tried not to feel sorry for the girl at the front. In fashion, you had to know who's who. So what if maybe she was the uninterested little sister of someone .. it was the wrong place at the wrong time.  
  
"Charles, sit. Camera?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Note book." Erik looked around. "Well if it's going to be something.. at least I'm really the first one on it."  
  
 _Whatever happened to 'we'?_ Charles nodded and offered him the note book.  
  
Ten minutes into the show he felt Erik relax next to him. And after another five, his boss dropped a little piece of paper in his lap. _"Good choice to stay here"_  
  
Of course it wasn't worth a celebration, but it at least made something light up inside Charles. _You stupid man._ He didn't know if he was talking about himself or Erik.  
  
   ~~~~~  
  
"Models should stay backstage." A scarily thin woman looked Charles up and down. "You're here for Nagisyn, aren't you? Gods, I hope you will fit into anything."  
  
"To watch it, Chantal." Erik put a hand on Charles' shoulder. "Charles is my assistant."  
  
"Ah." Her face stayed the same. Maybe she couldn't smile. "Mister Erik Lensherr. Such a compliment to see you here. Will you stay for the show?"  
  
"No, I want backstage. Your collection is so over-done that the nude underwear of your models will be more exciting. Please?" His smile was scary and he squeezed Charles' shoulder before releasing it.  
  
"Of course." Chantal didn't show any emotion. "Follow me, please."  
  
 _Well, at least she thought I looked good._ Charles would have to remember to tell Raven.  
  
"You could easily fit into this." Erik pulled something off the rack which looked like a nun's habit.  
  
"Are you really trying to joke, mister Erik Lensherr?" Charles couldn't keep his face as well in place as Chantal Botox.  
  
"I never joke." There was a twinkle in his eye that was mesmerizing. "Camera."  
  
"Camera?"  
  
"The gadget you are carrying for me that allows us to make photographs?" Erik snapped his fingers. "Stay on it 24/7, Charles."  
  
And gone was the twinkle. Charles grabbed his bag and dug for the camera. "Here it is. Anything I can do?"  
  
"Keep Botox away from me." His boss draped the habit over its rack. "That would be all."  
  
 _Sometimes I hate you for making me fall in love with you so hard._ He looked how Dictator Editor-in-chief Erik Lensherr turned into devoted fashion lover and pinched himself. _But not now._

_\--_

"Fifteen minutes to runway!"  
  
They had two days left of PFW and it was the first time Erik had invited Charles to participate into the rumble of a fashion show. Well .. after a 'Don't screw up. I've got my eyes on you' and 'Do as everyone more experienced says'.  
  
So when a nice looking man with a gorgeous French accent asked if he could sew, Charles said yes and was pulled along. He tried to look back, to find Erik, but in a minute he was surrounded by gorgeous tall dark-skinned models, a sewing kit pushed into his hands and a muttered "Go" in his ears.  
  
"Thank God!" A model with a heavy gold necklace and matching gold trousers walked over to him and lifted her hip. "Get in, please."  
  
"Get in?" Charles looked at the sewing kit and the tro- oh. "Well, I never willingly tried to get a girl _into_ her clothes."  
  
The model giggled. "You must be new. Men down here don't want naked girls."  
  
He knelt down next to her and looked at the little tear in the fabric. "Not even pretty ones like you?" He opened the kit. "Stand very still, please. I don't want to hurt you."  
  
"Of course Nance is the first to find the sew kit." Another model walked over. "Gods, he's gorgeous."  
  
"I know", Nance replied over Charles' head. "He wants me naked", she added in a play-whisper.  
  
"Now don't lie for me, Nance." _What was the last time he had used needle and thread on something?_ He put the needle between his lips and gently pulled the fabric together.  
  
"No way!", her colleague replied. "That means you have to share!"  
  
 _Luckily they had no problem with objectifying men._ Charles smiled.  
  
Nance patted his head. "All right, but only until the start of the show."  
  
  ~~~~  
  
It had been a very long day after that. Charles' fingers still hurt, twelve hours after the sewing. Now he just wanted to go to b-  
  
Someone knocked on his door. _Shit._ He grabbed the hotel's complimentary robe and put it on before opening the door to Erik. A very tired looking Erik, like his skin was too big for him.  
  
"Everything's all right?"  
  
His boss side-stepped him and sat down on the couch. "Tell me something. About you."  
  
"What? It's one in the morning. If this isn't work rela-"  
  
"Tell me." He leaned back, head lolling over the high end.  
  
 _What the hell?_ "Why? Tit for tat? Because you told me about the tw-" His breath halted when he met Erik's eyes. He looked miserable. Charles closed his door and sat down in the adjoining chair. "I was born in England, but moved here when I was eight. My parents were of the kind that thought a child was just another project you could accelerate in and put me through all the - in their eyes - appropriate courses and hobbies. I can play piano, speak Latin, fence, play polo, tell you about the origin of democracy etcetera. This didn't make my childhood a very cheerful one. Until I met the girl next door, living in a house hold that was part Pippi Longstockings, part Woodstock. Raven's parents were everything mine weren't. If Raven decided to be a hair dresser, there were dolls for hair cutting. And me, I walked around closely shaven for a while." He smiled at the memory. "Her parents only told her to be safe, to be nice to others and get the best out of life.  
Of course my parents hated that and after two years told me not to see her any more .. until it came out that the Darkenholmes are a very old branch of the same family the tsar of Russia was part of. Suddenly I had befriended nobility, and it was all right. When Raven was eleven she decided to become a clothes designer. She took her pencils to her mother's clothes, taught me how to sew so I could help and .." Charles looked at Erik. His eyes were closed and his face relaxed. Asleep.  
  
"You really need to warn me when you're falling asleep." He rose. _Now what?_ "Erik?"  
  
No reply.  
  
"This wasn't how I planned your first sleep over." Charles squatted down next to Erik's legs and gently took his shoes off. Next he lifted those legs, putting Erik on his side.  
  
His boss continued sleeping (or was the greatest actor).  
  
"I'll get you a blanket." His eyes lingered over the completely relaxed form in front of him. With some regret he stood and followed on his word.  
  
  
When Charles' alarm woke him the next morning at six AM, Erik was already gone.

\--

"The models were very positive about you, last night."  
  
Charles offered Erik his coffee and was glad he found his boss in the hotel's restaurant. "Do you want anything else for breakfast?"  
  
"I already ate. Get something yourself." Erik took the coffee. "I didn't expect you to be such a womaniser."  
  
"I didn't expect you to come by my room and fall asleep on my couch." Charles didn't know what urged Erik to have these attacks of insecurity or whatever it was, but he didn't care for it. "Today you have to meet with Donatella so I'd advise you to wear something that isn't Tom Ford or Gucci because she h-"  
  
"You'd advise me?" Erik rose from his chair and leaned in so close that Charles expected a kiss. "I don't take advice from my assistants. Especially those that think their job gives a great opportunity to pick up women. Please have your breakfast at another table."  
  
 _What?_ "If I'd known my couch would be that bad, I would have offered you the bed." He leaned back and swallowed. "I-"  
  
"Just get out of my sight. Please." His boss sat down.  
  
"Erik .." Flabbergasted didn't cover it. "But you .."  
  
"In your room there's a list with things you can do to help out. I'll see you tomorrow night at Charl-"  
  
"No." Charles crossed his arms. "I don't know what I did wrong this time because you always disappear or ignore it, but I'm not something to be send off. You know as well as I do that I didn't take this job to flirt with women, I just gave them a compliment. I don't even care for women in that way and you know that.  
Even though you have bossed me around and asked the most stupid things of me instead of giving me a chance to _write_ a story, I kept on because there are moments that you're so great and sweet and wonderful to be around with. But you can't just keep running hot and cold and I had it with being your door mat."  
  
Erik looked so hurt that for a moment Charles was terrified that he had made the great dictator of fashion cry. But when his boss spoke, his voice was ice cold. "So go. Take your über-talented, badly dressed ass out of here and leave for a spot in the local's daily. I've got millions of people who would love to be my door mat." His eyes looked like dark, shiny pebbles. "Go."  
  
 _So this was it. The end of his chances with Erik, the end of his career in the magazine world, the end._ He felt suddenly so tired that it was hard to keep upright. With a nod to his boss -ex boss?- he turned away and left the restaurant.  
  
Five hours later, walking around Montmarte (hadn't he wished for the guts to ask Erik for lunch in a nice bistro down here?), Charles' phone shocked him out of his gloomy thoughts.  
For a second he wished it would be Erik barking down his ear, but it wasn't him.  
  
"Allah and Buddha and baby Jesus, _Charles_!" Raven sounded furious. "I release you two into Paris and you still manage to Fuck Things Up? You're not sixteen any more, this isn't Scott-with-a-girlfriend so just-"  
  
"Thanks for the support, Raven. Good to know you're on my side." Charles dropped himself on a park bench.  
  
"Yes, let's talk about sides. Remember the remark about you not being sixteen any more?" Her voice softened. "Erik never had a boyfriend before."  
  
"How strange."  
  
"Charlie, I will fly over right now and kick you into the Seine if you don't play grown up any time soon. Can you imagine how confusing it is for him to fall for Cinderella?"  
  
 _Cinderella. These people and their nicknames._ "Being a relationship virgin doesn't mean you have to be a cold judgemental bitch. I gave him chances. I tried to correct him but I'm not his bloody mum! If he could just be less of a control freak and just adm-"  
  
"Like you are?" Raven sighed. "I'm rolling my eyes at both of you right now, just so you know. Stay out of his sight, decide if you want him bad enough to share a plane for another ten hours with him tomorrow and oh gods, think of the twins."  
  
"The twins?" _Shit, the plane fight. Shit._  
  
"You really think Erik tells all about those two to just any guy? Bye Charles, love you."  
  
"Oh shit." He ended the call. _So this doesn't make things easier at all._ Charles felt something twist in his gut. _Stupid, stupid man._ Again, he didn't know if he was talking to himself or Erik.

\--

This time it was Erik who was the first to be on the airport.  
  
"Hello, Charles."  
  
"Erik." It felt like there were a couple of ferrets digging themselves through Charles intestines. "We're ready to board, shall we?"  
  
"I don't know if you have spend thought on yesterday, but I like to erm- retract everything I said to you." His boss was suddenly very focused on his luggage.  
  
 _That didn't take long. Maybe he wasn't the only one drilled by Raven._ "I won't linger on it any more. We should board."  
 _But did he say it because he meant it or because he wanted things back to normal?_  
  
"Yes, we should." His boss nodded and followed Charles when he walked to the gate.  
  
"And I couldn't get a different seat, so you'll have t-"  
  
"I really don't mind." Erik's hand brushed against Charles' when he took his bag from him. "But if you do, we can ask someone on board to swap."  
  
 _I don't want this kicked puppy act._ It seemed like the ferrets were gnawing their way up. "I don't. You're not bad to travel with."  
  
"You're the first to say that to me." He smiled at the stewardess before they left the desk.  
  
"Maybe others simply didn't dare."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
Charles was torn between yelling at Erik to just _get with the program_ and tell him what he wanted from Charles and holing up inside his head and continue saying goodbye to _Belle_ and its editor-in-chief.  
  
                     ~~  
  
"I thought we were friends, Charles. I'm very sorry if I hurt you."  
  
It was minutes after take off, Erik's eyes on the inflight magazine, when he dropped that bomb.  
  
"Are you sure you want to talk about this in a place which we can't leave for another ten hours?" Charles wished he was twelve again and you could just fix a friendship after a fight by talking to each other again. Not this heavy silence.  
  
"There are very few things I'm not sure about and most of them revolve around you."  
  
"That's not an answer to my question." Charles turned to him. "Erik, please? I'm not here to attack you. I don't even want to attack you because you might throttle me with a thousand dollar piece of clothing."  
  
"Not wearing any right now." It was a muttered reply, but Charles could feel the shift in the atmosphere.  
  
"Good to know I won't be the one to undress you for my own death."  
  
"The way things are going right now, I don't think you will undress me for any reason." There was a sliver of warmth in Erik's voice.  
  
"Maybe we should stick with the subject of a friendship without door matting." Charles tried hard not to think of undressing Erik. More important things were at hand. "Because I like to be friends. Pretty sure of it, anyway."  
  
Erik met his eyes. "You know that pretty sure doesn't work for me."  
  
"Maybe you can give me more insight of what works for you." Charles bit his lip. They had another ten hours to fill, after all.


	9. Chapter 9

Small things changed in the weeks after Charles and Erik's return to the _Belle_ office.   
Erik said 'Thank you' or 'Please' much more often when it concerned Charles. Charles in return said 'No' more often and he was permanently on The Book delivery duty. Which neither of them seemed to mind.  
  
He was also applying for other jobs.   
  
"Cha-herles!" Wanda had taken it upon her to mangle his name in every possibe way. She bounced down the stairs as soon as he stepped inside. Charles suspected her of hidden cameras.  
  
Pietro wasn't far behind. "Blue! Blue Blue Blu-"  
  
"Shouldn't you two be in bed?" Not that Charles really cared. The twins were the most addictive people he had met in a long time. "What if your father gets mad at me for keeping you up?"  
  
"He won't", Wanda answered.   
  
"We have a surprise!" Pietro danced around him.  
  
"For me?" _A ticket away from the awkward friend zone?_  
  
Both of them nodded. "We're inviting you to our birthday!" They blurted out. "Only nine more nights of sleeping!"  
  
"I'm getting a whale cake", Pietro piped up.  
  
"And I an ice cream one."   
  
"Well. Wow." _Oh shit, did those two read minds?_ "Does your father know that you're inv-"  
  
"Yup yup."   
  
"And we want gifts but only small one because daddy says we're not spoiled."  
  
"He says Blue's poor", Pietro corrected his sister.  
  
That sounded more like Erik, indeed. "Well. If you're sure your father doesn't mind, I love to come. With presents." _What did you buy for rich nine-year-olds?_  
  
"Hurrah!" The twins hugged him.  
  
"But now I'm going to put The Book down and you two should get back to bed." _And what am I going to wear?_   
  
     ~~~  
  
"Charles?"  
  
He was down on the third floor to grab Raven's latest adjustments to a small collection. "Raven?"  
  
"So you took down the great dictator .. but why aren't their any rumours about you two making out in the elevator and 'working late'? Are you seriously going to tell me th-"  
  
"I think we're just friends." Erik had been close to a gentleman the last months. Yes there were comments that could be considered flirty, but there was never more. Maybe they had shared too much in the plane and Erik wanted to try relationships with someone less dysfunctional.   
  
"You know that you two could be dysfunctional together, right?" She sighed and pulled him into a hug. "Let's look at your boyfriend history."  
  
"Let's not." Charles already knew what was coming.   
  
"Your choices: Scott, abstinence, Logan and Tony. My choices: Steve, Clint and the guy that promised to marry you as soon as that was possible."  
  
He smiled. "Ronald offered that after three dates."  
  
"Why are you holding back?"  
  
"Maybe because this time I want to be the one swept off my feet, fought for and cherished." He stepped back. "I love you, Raven, but stop it."  
  
She rolled with her eyes. "Consider me stopped. But promise me you'll keep your eyes peeled and your feet ready for sweeping away."   
  
"Of course." _Would she tell Erik?_ "And what the hell should I wear to the twins' birthday, by the way?"  
  
  
The next day, Charles got invited for a job interview. After five days they offered him a contract.   
  
He only had to tell Erik that he had said yes to it. His gut seemed to curl up. And the twins. He had to say goodbye to the twins.


	10. Chapter 10

"You look nice."  
  
Charles couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Raven had laughed at him when he had asked for advice, but luckily in the end she had helped and offered him brown suede shoes, night blue jeans (he had said no to the skinny version) and a baby blue sweater which was only slightly oversized. "Thank you." He lifted his gifts (a cartoon of Moby Dick for Wanda and a dvd about the world's oceans and its animals for Pietro). "Where should I put these?"  
  
Erik just kept looking at him.   
  
"You look nice as well?" Charles smiled. "You always do." His boss was wearing black patalons and a very bright blouse with rainbow accents.  
  
"The twins are always allowed to pick my outfit on their birthday. Charles, I'm sure you w-"  
  
"What?"   
  
"There are some people in there you could call celebrities. I don't expect you of yelling, begging for signatures and what not but .." Erik's mouth trembled before it shaped up into a smile. "Okay?"  
  
"I get your signature all the time, why would I want someone elses?" Like Charles wasn't nervous enough.   
  
"Nice to hear. Shall we?"  
  
As soon as they stepped into the second living room, Charles was jumped by the twins.   
  
"Manny?" A man with waist-long hair asked.   
  
"You know we don't work with nannies and the like." An older woman, impeccably dressed, replied with an European accent. "You must be Charles. I hear all kind of stories about you. My name's Edie Lensherr." She made the first E roll. "Erik's mother."  
  
 _Erik had warned him about signature-hunting but not about his mother being present?_ Charles tried not to gape, pulled one of his hands free from the twins and extended it to mrs Lensherr. "Charles Xavier. I hope most of those stories were kind."  
  
She shook it. "Some." A small smile. "But don't ask for more compliments, it would be frowned upon."  
  
"Mama, maybe I can offer him a drink first before you start teaching etiquette." Erik took his gifts from Charles. "If you want something, of course?"  
  
Charles felt everyone's eyes burn into him. "Please." There would be a lot of alcohol needed to survive this night.  
  
"Pi, Wanda, let Charles go."  
  
The twins obliged, transferring to their grandmother who immediately lit up with the attention.  
  
"Your mother's here."   
  
Erik nodded. "Of course, they're her grand children. Don't worry, she won't bite nor curse you out in Yiddish. I told her to be nice to everyone I invited."  
  
"I thought the twins had invited me." _This must be a set up._   
  
"There could be hardly anyone else who are more a part of me." Erik waved at the bar. "What can I get you?"  
  
  ~~   
  
"You're so cute", a tipsy Heid Klum whispered in Charles' ear when he tried to leave for the fourth time. "You and Erik should be like Beauty and the Beast."   
  
"Thanks, but I really should go." Maybe he should get a cab. Or did he get here by bike? No, he didn't have a bike. He drank too much. When he turned to leave the living room, he walked into Erik. "I'm going. Really now. Great party. Kiss the twins from me. See you on Monday." He puckered his lips. "Good kiss."  
  
Erik shook his head smiling and took Charles' arm. "I already got you a cab."  
  
"Why?" _Wouldn't he rather take advantage of the situation? Charles wasn't that drunk yet and he just almost kissed him. Oh God, Erik was asexual, that must be it. They were never going to have sex. What a waste._ "But I love you anyway." Charles winced. "I mean-" When was he ever going to stop drinking to gain courage? "I'm okay with every sexuality."  
  
"You drank too much." Erik joined him in the elevator. "In front of your boss and toute hip New York."  
  
"Whatever." _I guess he can only talk about his feelings when we're in a plane._ "Did I do well?"   
  
"Everyone loved you. The twins loved your presents. Although Wanda might bully Pi with a dead whale."   
  
"And?"  
  
The elevator tinged and Erik steered him out. "That's your cab."


	11. Chapter 11

Erik was late. Today, on all days. Because Charles had finally decided that he couldn't do worse than getting drunk and offering himself to his boss, he should get it together and tell Erik that he had a new job and was leaving _Belle_.  
  
"Xavier." Angel tapped his shoulder. "You're staring at mister Lensherr's office, not your computer screen. Change that."  
  
 _And if there was one person he wouldn't miss .._ "You look nice today, Angel."  
  
"Looking at the person it's coming from .." She just shrugged and walked away.   
  
Charles didn't even bother replying, especially since he heard the elevator's *ping* and saw Erik step out. His boss was dressed in a light green coat (new colour on him, looked wonderful) and an anthracite suit. _Pining isn't the right state of mind right now._   
  
"Good morning."   
  
He rose from his chair. "Erik, could we erm.. talk?"  
  
His boss smiled. "Did you already did something wrong so early in the day? Come in."  
  
"Thanks." He followed Erik into his office and closed the door behind him.  
  
"You dressed yourself." The taller man circled him before putting his coat away.  
  
"I did." Charles looked at the view. "How do you know?"  
  
"Your trousers should rest on your shoes, not sleep on them." Erik met his eyes. "And there's a small spot on your collar. Probably tooth paste or something."  
  
 _Well shit._ So much for a nice outfit to show his serious side. "I'll remember."  
  
"But those are things you can work on and I'm sure you're not here to be critiqued."  
  
 _Here goes._ Charles took a deep breath. "I'm leaving. I've got another job. It will be a financial set back and maybe I'll even have to move back to my parents again but it's completely what I want, even though it's little more than an int-" He stopped talking when he saw Erik's smile slip from his face.  
  
"Oh." Erik scratched his temple before pushing both of his hands into his pockets. "Well. That's ..unexpected."  
  
"It won't change anything for us!", he hurried to say. "Although you might miss critiquing me but I'm sure you can find someone el-"  
  
"Well. Eh- it's quite convenient in a way."  
  
"Convenient?" That was very harsh. "Wow, you just top your ga-"  
  
"Because I had a present for you and your birthday is still a couple of months off. Now at least .." Erik shrugged. "Right?"  
  
"Yes. Right." Charles felt nauseous. There was no need for a breakdown, but just a shrug?   
  
"And congratulations of course. I should .. talk to Raven and if you can pick up your present after ..lunch? Two? I need to be down there any way."  
  
"You really don't care?"  
  
The smile returned. "I just want you to be happy."  
  
 _And clearly he didn't see himself as a part of that._ Charles nodded. "I'll be down by two."  
  
~~

Charles knew that Erik would also be on the third floor. He didn't expect he would be half naked on a pedestal like some god of Fashion. The shock got more embarrassing when he realized he was getting hard because of the sight of barely-dressed-boss and he turned so fast that his neck snapped.   
  
"Oh, Charles." The innocence was dripping of Erik's voice. "They need me in my favourite suit for some auction .. I was just picking one, because I'm definitely not parting with my favourite."  
  
"Ah." He would just look at the door and think of very not arousing things. "I'm sure that's not part of my present." Immediately his mind offered him an image of a completely naked Erik with only a bow where it counted. "Shit."  
  
"I didn't consider you as the prudish type. Should I put something on?"  
  
Bastard. Charles dredged up the memory of himself as a twelve year old walking into his parents role-playing doctor and nurse and felt himself relax. "You're still my boss, do whatever you want." He turned back and kept his eyes on Erik's face.   
  
"You don't mean that." Erik stepped off the pedestal and came so close that his bare chest almost touched Charles' blouse.  
  
DOCTOR AND NURSE ROLE PLAY, Charles thought. "You know what I mean with it. What to do and not to do."  
  
"I will really miss you, Charles. So will the twins."  
  
"I can come by? If you'd like?" His voice started to get out of control. "And you still didn't tell me what my present i-"  
  
"Shut up." Erik studied his face. "You're showing a whole new capitalistic side to you right n-"  
  
The nerves were too overwhelming to do anything else but lean in and kiss those lips. For a split second there was no reaction and Charles thought well at least he can't fire me for it before Erik grabbed the back of his head and pushed into him and yes yes yes it was hot and sweet and finally.  
  
"Now." The word left Erik's mouth with a little pant. "I mean .." He beamed. "Wow."  
  
Charles nodded. "All this talk about presents .. I didn't want to leave without ..that. I just really .."  
  
This time it was Erik who initiated the kiss, driving all thoughts of presents and doctor and nurse role play from Charles' head.


	12. Epilogue

**Seven years later**

 

"And it took us like three nights because I was _so_ over International History but Charles kept trying and now it's kind of a little bit interesting? There were some amazing kick ass women and the patriarchy of the western world just continues to refuse to share their glories." Wanda sighed into her phone. "No, my real dad just knows stuff about fashion, blah blah. Charles is my other dad, he knows the really cool stuff."

"Really cool stuff." Erik sighed and put his head on his husband's shoulder. "I've put her in Diane von Furstenberg since she was twelve, flew her to every Fashion Week around the world and she thinks your history knowledge is cooler."

Charles stroked his hair. "But at least she allows us to listen in?"

"No, she's doing this to show she's a good girl. Like I'll forget the school's notice about her verbally burning down a teacher again."

"Yes, I wonder who she got that from." He kissed Erik's crown. "Pietro loves everything you offer him. I think we need to get him another closet for his bags and shoes. Or educate him some more about how you really _can_ wear a pair more than once."

"That's my mother's fault. I take zero responsibility for that part. And there's nothing wrong with a young child appreciating fine Italian leather. You're just turning Wanda into a little activist."

"No he isn't!" Wanda left the kitchen, a look of disgust on her face. "Where's Pi? I'm so over Nanette asking about him while we all know he's a little sl-" She smiled. "Has another girlfriend?"

"See?" Charles said at the same time while Erik boomed "Did you just call your brother a slut?"

Their daughter rolled her eyes. "I'm going to the libary."

"As long as he's practicing safe sex .." Charles pulled Erik back in his previous place. "Relax."

"You think he's having _sex_?"

"Love .."

"He's sixteen!"

Charles cocked an eyebrow. "And you were absolutely celibate and uninterested in sex at sixteen?"

Wanda wriggled her fingers in goodbye before fleeing.

"Whole other subject." Erik rose from the couch. "Do you think all those times I let a friend come over for homework, there was no ..homework?"

His husband stiffled a laugh.

"You think he's having .. here?"

"Don't make a scene."

"You know that wasn't a scene." He sat down again. "I will have a _very_ firm talking to when he leaves that room. And let him clean up everything that was needed for ..that." He kissed Charles. "Don't laugh at me. They were babies yesterday."

"I'm not laughing at you." He kissed the corner of Erik's mouth. "Usually you're just a bit more perc-"

"Not another word."

"I love you."

Erik sighed. "You continue to be rubbish when it comes to following orders."

"Isn't it amazing?"

"I love you too."


End file.
